Watching from afar
by tanithw
Summary: Hermione has a crush on her professor, she sends her love letters. Will she ever reveal her identity?
1. Chapter 1

First Year – 1st letter

Hands trembling in the dawn light Hermione carefully folded the scroll into an envelope, trying hard not to make a noise and wake her roommates. She should have finished this last night but Harry and Ron had been talking to her. It was the first time she had ever had friends and all it took was nearly getting killed by a troll and lying to her favourite teacher.

Her lips curled up into a smile as she thought of Minerva McGonagall. Although she was only twelve she knew that she was in love with the older woman, due to the differences between their positions and the age gap, she knew that she couldn't confess her feelings yet. So being smart she had thought of a solution.

Stuffing the letter into her bag she hurried down to breakfast.

It was later that day when Professor McGonagall noticed the nondescript envelope on her desk. Turning it over in her hands she looked it over, noting the lack of a return address and the carefully penned probably disguised handwriting on the front. With a sigh she opened the envelope, hoping that this wasn't another prank by the Weasley twins.

A carefully charmed roll of parchment slid out and unrolled itself before her eyes. She began to read a very familiar piece of prose.

'_Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage_

_Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,_

_To thee I send this written embassage,_

_To witness duty, not to show my wit;_

_Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine_

_May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,_

_But that I hope some good conceit of thine_

_In thy soul's thought, all naked, will bestow it;_

_Till whatsoever star that guides my moving _

_Points on me graciously with fair aspect,_

_And puts apparel on my tattered loving_

_To show me worthy of thy sweet respect._

_Then may I dare to boast how I love thee;_

_Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me._

"Whoa." She said out loud. Who would know that she adored the works of one William Shakespeare? It was someone smart enough to pick a little known sonnet and not one of the more clichéd verses that everyone knew.

She re-read it and with a flash of understanding, she understood what the author was trying to say. Apparently they loved her but feeling bound by a sense of duty would not reveal themselves until they felt worthy of her respect.

Who was it? Resolutely she turned to throw it into the fire but something stopped her and she slid it into a drawer, trying hard to forget it.

* * *

Year One – 2nd Letter

It was a cold January in Hogwarts when a letter floated onto Professor McGonagalls desk. Recognising the handwriting as that of her admirer she did not turn to open it but ran for the door seeking an answer but the corridor was empty.

She returned to her desk and stared at the letter, hoping that it would reveal its secrets. As though her thoughts had commanded it, the scroll unrolled.

_How like a Winter hath my absence been_

_From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year?_

_What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!_

Why was this note so short? But still it offered clues to the authors' identity; whoever it had been must have spent Christmas away from Hogwarts. Which meant it could have been most of the students and several members of staff. "Arrgh." This letter joined the previous one.

Hermione meanwhile returned Harrys invisibility cloak to his trunk, it was proving useful.

* * *

Year One – Final Letter

Hermione sealed the envelope with a smile. She could have sent any number of letters to the professor over the weeks but had chosen only three, not wanting to force her into trying to discover the identity of her admirer. At least she had time now to read up on more enchantments to conceal her identity when the professor would finally start to use magic on her letters.

It was easy enough to drop the letter on the floor under Minervas desk during a scuffle between Harry and Malfoy. Easier still to leave the room before it was noticed.

A few hours later Oliver Wood noticed the letter and retrieved it, "Did you drop this Professor, I found it on the floor?"

Minerva gave him an assessing look but knowing the boy to be truthful she thanked him and waiting for the class to leave she returned to her seat ripping open the envelope.

_Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,_

_For still temptation follows where thou art._

_Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won._

There was a gap below this and the four words that made her gasp

_A declaration of intent?_

Minervas lips pursed, she would have to find out who was sending these letters.

* * *

A.N. Please R&R.

Shall I continue? I do have a big finale in mind.


	2. Second Year

Second Year – Summer Holiday – Flourish and Blotts

"What do you mean you haven't got any books on how to dispel enchantments on parchment? For Merlins sake this is supposed to be a bookshop."

The former Ravenclaw shop girl blanched in horror as her ex- Transfiguration Professor drew herself up to her full height, about to launch into one of her trademark sardonic put-downs. She had thought that after graduating Hogwarts she would be safe from humiliation, all she needed now was Snape to show up and that would be the perfect end to a lousy week.

"But Professor…" Biting off her retort Minerva impatiently waited for the cowering girl to continue. "All our books on that kind of thing were purchased earlier. It may be some time before…"

Her words were cut off with a yelp as the professor took a threatening step towards her, "By whom?" Any former Hogwarts student would recognise the tone of her voice as the one she would use when she was deadly serious, it was a tone that would brook no refusal.

"Our client list is confidential." The girl paled at the look on Minervas face.

At that moment a bustle of noisy Hogwarts students burst through the door and it was only this that saved the shop girl. Knowing what she must look like and knowing that her control over the students depended mainly on image; Minerva dismissed the girl and walked out of the bookshop with her head held high.

Besides that idiot Lockhart was due at a signing any moment and she couldn't deal with love sick teenage girls at the moment. 'Whoever it is will probably have given up or left by now any way.'

Behind her the shop girl fell to her knees hyperventilating, it was supposed to get better after school – right?

Neither of them noticed the slender hand that slid a scrap of hastily penned parchment into the older womans shopping bag. That was not the only thing being planted on a witch in Flourish and Blotts that day – which is another story.

* * *

It was many hours later when Minerva discovered the note, it was with a sigh that she began to read.

_How can my Muse want subject to invent._

_While thou dost breathe that pour'st into my verse_

_Thine own sweet argument, too excellent_

_For every vulgar paper to rehearse?_

_O, give thyself the thanks if aught in me_

_Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;_

_For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,_

_When thou thy self dost give invention light?_

…

_If my slight Muse do please these curious days,_

_The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise._

Again the message was clear. The author knew she was trying to break her enchantments and was asking her not to.

"Who are you?" Even to her own ears her voice sounded strange, she didn't know what to think anymore. Suddenly it occurred to her exactly how much she had missed the notes over the summer. "Merlin." She added it to the growing pile in her desk drawer.

* * *

Second Year – 2nd Letter

Leaning against the wall Minerva looked into the flames of her fire, it had been a long time since she had been forced to remember the last time that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. Even among the staff they had not gone into detail but Miss Grangers eager question had brought it all back. She closed her eyes suddenly afraid, this was an enemy that she did not know and couldn't fight.

The cool wind that rushed through the room was strangely allegorical of her mood. Winds of change were moving through Hogwarts and did not bode well for the continued future of the school but time would tell. The breeze whipped up a little faster as though controlled by some external force. Moving swifter than most people would have thought possible for a woman her age, she strode across the room grabbing the piece of parchment that was floating in the wind.

_Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul_

_Of the wide world dreaming of things to come,_

_Can yet the lease of my true love control,_

_Suppos'd as forfeit to a confin'd doom._

_The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd,_

_And the sad augurs mock their own presage;_

_Incertainties now crown themselves assur'd,_

_And peace proclaims olives of endless age._

_Now with the drops of this most balmy time_

_My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,_

_Since spite of him I'll live in this poor rhyme,_

_While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes._

_And thou in this shall find thy monument,_

_When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent._

Minerva swallowed with difficulty. How did the author know just what sonnet to select, surely it must have been so hard to find one that tied in with their current predicament. It had to be someone with a far greater knowledge of the classics than she herself could lay claim to. "Who are you?" Her voice was full of wonder.

* * *

Second Year – Third letter

Though the Mandrake potion had freed Hermione from her Petrified state, she was still weak from long weeks of inactivity. Surrounded by a huge pile of books on her bed she was struggling to catch up on her missed lessons. Madame Pomfrey had insisted on keeping them there for a few days, just to make sure that they didn't over exert themselves.

"Speak of the devil…" Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Now Miss Granger, you are supposed to be resting." The nurse bustled around, removing books and sheafs of parchment from the bed, "Read a book or write a letter, no homework."

Hermione smiled and reached for a quill and parchment. Though she had always liked Shakespeare's plays and sonnets, it was only since last year that she knew his entire work by heart. Which made it easier when she had to think of the right quote in a pinch.

It had been sheer luck finding the method of her communication with Minerva. A meeting in her office, a glance at her bookshelf. Many of the older witches books were ones that also graced her own, they thought alike and when bouncing ideas back and forth it was as though they added another dimension to the others talent and skills. It was at one such meeting that she had fallen in love with her professor.

"It's crazy, I know it's crazy."

"Talking to yourself is crazy." Colin piped up from the other end of the room. She ignored him.

I am too young to know that I am in love but somehow I know it to be true. Perhaps I should take Divination next year and find out if it is some kind of portent. If I have the ability to tell the future because there must be a reasonable explanation for this.

Her pen slid almost of it's own accord to the paper and she began to write.

_In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,_

_For they in thee a thousand errors note;_

_But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,_

_Who in spite of view is pleased to dote._

_Nor are my own ears with thy tongues tune delighted;_

_Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,_

_Nor taste nor smell desire to be invited_

_To any sensual feast with thee alone;_

_But my five wits nor my five senses can _

_Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee._

Hermione held it up in the candlelight and perused the prose, perhaps it was a little too honest but honesty was always the best policy. She may be in love and love may be blind but she was still a realist.

Once Madame Pomfrey let her out of here she would find a way to deliver it.


	3. Third Year

Third year – September

"I'm telling you Ron, Crookshanks is a cat! Cats chase rats!"

"He's not normal, that bloody cat is after Scabbers! It's not fair."

Ron aimed a kick at the orange bundle of fur, "No Ronald!" Hermione screamed snatching up her pet. Dropping a bundle of books to the floor at the same time.

"What on Earth is going on here? This is a school corridor not a playground!" Minerva McGonagall glared at them all, having rushed out of her classroom in a panic.

"One of you had better be injured considering the amount of noise you were making."

Hermione spoke up, "Professor he…"

"Her cat…"

"Mr Potter, why don't you tell me what is going on?"

"Hermiones cat has been chasing Rons rat."

"Is that all?" The incredulous look on her face was real as was the utter disbelief in her voice. She turned a glare on the other two Gryffindors who nodded.

"It's evil!"

The professor looked at him for a moment, "Mr Weasley, cats chase rats, dogs chase cats. I suggest you either buy a dog or cage your rat for its own good."

"Right. C'mon Harry." The two boys walked off, Harry giving a backward glance to his other friend making sure she was ok.

Hermione froze as the object of her affection walked closer to her and raised a hand. The older witch proceeded to ruffle Crookshanks' fur, making soft noises at the cat. Hermione was still frozen in place, noting the smile on her idols face, the proximity of her green eyes. It was with difficulty that she tore her eyes from the vision in front of her, she couldn't risk a mis-step now, couldn't take the chance of inadvertently revealing her identity.

With that thought she looked at the floor, among the many books scattered on the flagstones was an extremely well-worn copy of Shakespeare's complete works. Minerva obviously hadn't noticed yet but that wouldn't last. Her Transfiguration professor was known for her sharp eye and for the fact that she missed little.

"Professor, would you mind holding him for a moment please?"

"Certainly Miss Granger."

Hermione began to gather up the books, carefully keeping the titles hidden but trying at the same time to make her attempt as surreptitious as she could. She straightened up with the books in her arms and wondered at how she could carry her cat back to the tower at the same time.

"Would you like some help?"

"Yes please Professor if you don't mind, I don't really want him wandering off by himself when Ron is in this kind of mood."

Minerva nodded understandingly, "It may be wise to keep a closer eye on him, it isn't worth loosing friends over pets."

"I will Professor."

Side by side they began the walk to Gryffindor tower.

"I have been meaning to ask you how you are coping with your workload this year?"

"There are times when it feels that I am trying to do too much but I am trying no to let it get to me."

"If you feel that you are having any problems please come and see me. You have set yourself an extremely hard task, if you do need to drop a few subjects to make your workload more manageable please do consider it."

"I will." Hermione left a lot unsaid with those two words and her professor seemed to know this instinctively.

"But…"

Minerva watched the girl carefully as she took a deep breath and seemed to carefully choose her words before speaking.

"The Ministry put a lot of faith in me by allowing me to use the time-turner, I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore and you both had to think long and hard before recommending that I have one. I just…I just don't want to let anyone down."

Minerva stopped and gently took Hermiones arm making the girl face her, "listen Miss Granger, it takes a great deal of courage to admit when you are wrong or that you cannot cope. No one would think any less of you if you felt that you needed to do that, in fact most people would consider it very responsible."

"Thank you professor." With a smile Minerva placed the cat on top of Hermiones pile of books and left her at the portrait hole.

It was much, much later that same day when Minerva found the note in her robe pocket. It was another poem.

_What's in the brain that ink may character_

_What hath not figur'd to my true spirit?_

_What's new to speak, what new to register,_

_That may express my love or thy dear merit?_

_Nothing, but yet, like prayers divine,_

_I must ay each day o'er the very same;_

_Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,_

_Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name._

_So that eternal love in love's fresh case_

_Weighs not the dust and injury of age,_

_Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,_

_But makes antiquity for aye his page;_

_Finding the first conceit of love there bred,_

_Where time and outward form would show it dead. _

* * *

Third year – Dumbledore's office – All Hallows Day

"Albus, may I speak with you on a personal matter." They had just finished discussing new security arrangements after the break-in by Sirius Black.

"Minerva we have been friends for a great many years, you can speak to me on any subject."

"I have… a secret admirer." She blushed a little at the expression on his face, but forced herself not to feel embarrassed.

"Who is it?"

"Albus don't be dense, it wouldn't be secret if I knew would it now."

His eyes twinkled at her, "If you are being defensive now Minerva, there is little point in continuing this conversation."

"I have been getting letters from an unknown person for some time now."

"How long?"

"More than two years."

"And you haven't tried to find out who it is?"

"Well at first I just thought it would stop soon enough but last year I was about to make a serious attempt when I received one asking me not to try. That was enough for a time but I must admit that my curiosity has been peaked."

"Are they love letters?"

"Yes. Well after a fashion, they are muggle poems."

"Muggle poems?"

"Yes, they are sonnets by William Shakespeare. The first was basically to let me know that they had feelings for me and would try to win my affection over time. Most since seem to fit in with what is happening around the school, they even tie in with my moods and actions for Merlin sake."

"Do you feel that this person is dangerous?"

"No, that's not something I have even thought of. I don't get that impression at all."

"Maybe your admirer is simply shy and needs to seek your approval before they can reveal themselves."

"I don't know Albus, I get the impression that they think there is something to keep them from confronting me directly and won't act until that obstacle is gone. Which means it is another member of staff, it has to be."

"Our no fraternisation rule is not quite that strict but some might fear for their jobs or your rejection. Do you have any likely suspects?"

"I just hope it isn't Snape."

"He is disdainful of anything of Muggle origin – it wouldn't be his way to send you muggle poems. Have you even thought about whether it is a man or woman?"

"Only in trying to guess their identity, in a practical sense it makes no difference to me."

He smiled at her, "Ah yes, I forgot your proclivities for a moment."

She smirked at him and for a moment he could see the young woman that she had been, "That is besides the point Albus."

"It could be Hooch, she's had a crush on you for years."

"What?"

"Or even a student for that matter."

"What?"

"Is it so strange? Though I am sure it has escaped your notice you are an attractive woman, I am sure that there are many who would admire you if given a chance. Do not reproach someones desire to seek that which they desire."

"If I didn't know better Albus I would have to ask."

He smiled at her, placing a hand on the stack of letters she had put before him. "The person who wrote these has a depth of feeling for you that I will never have. Should you ever discover who it is, I suggest that you give your own feelings serious consideration."

"My feelings?"

"You do have them I presume?"

"Can you help me find out who it is?"

"No. It is better you discover that in accordance with their plan."

Minerva looked closely at him, "You know who it is don't you?"

"I have a good idea but no Minerva I am not going to tell you. There is plenty of time for all of that, so just enjoy the suspense. I always find that surprises are most enjoyable when allowed to mature to fruition without interference."

With this the Headmaster ushered her out of his office, he would have to owl the ministry regarding Sirius and time was getting on. Minerva left more bemused than she had been before she had spoken to him. Which wasn't actually that unusual when talking to Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

Third Year – April

The next letter was delivered by owl as Minerva sat at breakfast. Quickly she gave the owl some bacon and slipped it into her robes, ignoring Dumbledore's sidelong gaze. It was a post owl, the kind that could be hired at any Wizarding post office and there was no way to trace it. T'was just the latest attempt by her secret admirer to hide their identity, the letters were always in different places, presumably delivered by a different method.

Excusing herself Minerva left the staff table, abandoning what was left of her breakfast. She never noticed the adoring eyes of Hermione Granger following her exit with great interest, nor Dumbledore's assessing gaze at the young Gryffindor.

_O, never say that I was false of heart,_

_Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify!_

_As easy might I from my self depart_

_As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie_

_That is my home of love. If I have rang'd,_

_Like him that travels, I return again,_

_Just to the time, not with the time exchang'd,_

_So that my self bring water for my stain._

_Never believe, though in my nature feign'd_

_All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,_

_That it could so preposterously be stain'd_

_To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;_

_For nothing this wide universe I call_

_Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all._

For a moment she sagged against the wall, lost in the beauty of the bards prose and the intent of her admirer.

* * *

Third year – Third letter

It was a few days after the students had left. Last night had been the staffs' annual party, Scottish or not it still took time for Minerva to recover. Very carefully so as not to jar her head she began to pack some belongings into her case to take back to her manor for the summer.

Crossing to her desk she took out the pile of letters, including the one she had received just before the end of term, she took a moment to read them all again before carefully placing them in her bag.

_To me, fair friend, you can never be old,_

_For as you were when first your eye I eye'd,_

_Such seems your beauty still. Three winter cold_

_Have from the forests shook three summer's pride,_

_Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd_

_In process of the seasons I have seen,_

_Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,_

_Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green._

_Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,_

_Steal from his figure, and no peace perciev'd;_

_So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,_

_Hath motion, and my eye may be deciev'd._

_For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:_

_Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead._

She smiled, suddenly she couldn't wait for next year.


	4. Fourth Year

Fourth Year – At the Quidditch World Cup – The Weasleys Tent

"Is it true what Ron has been telling me, did you have a crush on Professor Lupin?"

Hermione looked up at Ginny incredulous, "What?"

Ginny just laughed, "I take that as a no then. Ron told me that you've been mooning around, he figured that you had a crush on someone and you were seen hanging around the staffroom."

"Ron will read something into anything." Hermione tried to shrug it off but secretly she was troubled, if Ron had come that close to the truth – it wouldn't be so long until someone with slightly more alertness guessed her secret. "Oh God."

"He was right?" When Hermione didn't answer just stared at the ground, Ginny shuffled closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders sensing her friends' distress. "'Mione? You can tell me anything you know, I told you all about Harry and the others."

There was a long pause. Hermiones voice when she spoke was rough and halting, "It's not Professor Lupin, not a crush."

"Then who and what?"

"I… I love Professor McGonagall."

Ginny was speechless for a moment, then shrugged, "I guess I can see the attraction for you. She's smart, likes books and can be very funny – if you like sarcasm."

Hermione grabbed her roughly, "You can't ever tell, not anyone!"

"I won't! Get off of me though."

The brunette let go of her, "Sorry." She stood up, running her hands through her hair and began to pace the tent.

"Please Ginny, she can't hear about this."

"You are going to have to tell her sometime, if you want to get in her pants."

Hermione blushed, "It's not like that Ginny, I love her." The sincerity in the older girls' voice was obvious. She then began to tell Ginny about the poems and how she was now worried that someone perceptive would guess, how was she going to stop that from happening.

"Simple."

"How so?" Hermione was curious, more than curious, she hadn't been able to see a way out and how did Ginny solve the problem that quickly.

"You just need a decoy."

"A decoy?"

"Make people think you are attached to someone else, and they won't worry about who you may fancy or did fancy in the past."

"Like you and …"

"Yep, no one remembers that I used to blush whenever Harry was near."

Hermione gave it some thought but as she opened her mouth to reply they heard voices approaching the tent.

"I won't tell anyone I promise." Ginny whispered as they could hear the others coming into the tent.

* * *

Fourth year – First letter

The first few weeks of term Minerva was acting like a centaur with a sore hoof – to use Hagrids phrase. Most of the other teachers thought it was stress from helping to finalise details for the Tri-wizard tournament. Each morning she would check her desks for letters and harass the post owls, she would go to her classroom and await a delivery.

It was a few days later when she found it slipped under her door, suppressing an irrational urge to tear it up, for keeping her waiting. She cursed her own shaking hands that made the paper shake in her eagerness. The verse was preceded by four words;

_Sorry for the delay_

_My love is strength'ned, though more weak in seeming;_

_I love not less, though less the show appear;_

_The love is merchandiz'd whose rich esteeming_

_The owner's tongue doth publish every where._

_Our love was new, and then but in the spring,_

_When I was wont to greet it with my lays;_

_As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,_

_And stops her pipe in growth of riper days._

_Not that the summer is less pleasant now_

_Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,_

_But the wild music burthens every bough,_

_And sweets grown common loose their dear delight._

_Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue,_

_Because I would not dull you with my song._

Minerva put it down. The message in this was clear; her admirer would not give up and was even now thinking about her, about her feelings. Obviously the author of the notes didn't want her to think that she was being stalked.

In that moment the Transfiguration professor knew that her beau was completely serious about trying to win her affections. It was not a joke, not just a crush but they meant what they had said. But how serious? Minerva smiled, she was a teacher after all and what better time to schedule a test.

* * *

Fourth Year – Minervas turn

It was a few days later that Hermione noticed the needlepoint slogan in Minervas classroom. It was only words neatly stitched on linen, unobtrusive in a thin frame, almost hidden where it hung on the wall.

The girl allowed herself a small smile as she recognised the words. It was a poem by Robert Burns, the national poet of Scotland.

_Your friendship much can make me blest,_

_O why that bliss destroy!_

_Why urge the only, one request_

_You know I will deny!_

_Your thought, if Love must harbour there,_

_Conceal it in that thought;_

_Nor cause me from my bosom tear_

_The very friend I sought._

Quickly Hermione averted her gaze from that wall and outwardly she focused on her work. Her mind was racing, how should she respond to it. The poem was either a challenge or a genuine offer of friendship – and Hermione knew how she would reply, she would just state a fact.

She waited until her professor was busy fixing the god-awful mess that Neville had made. Her spell was relatively simple but she had to use a non-verbal incantation, which was just enough to make her sweat a little with the effort. Minerva could feel the magic that swept across the classroom but when she turned around everyone was busy with their assigned tasks. Shaking her head a little she turned back to the hapless boy.

It was the next day when she noticed that the words on the needlepoint had been changed. Her eyes misted a little when she read them and she sat, rather heavily, in her chair.

_Doubt thou the stars are fire;_

_Doubt that the sun doth move;_

_Doubt truth to be a liar;_

_But never doubt I love._

"I guess you passed." She muttered not taking her eyes off of the verse. It was an extract from 'The Scottish Play' and one of the most romantic Shakespeare quotes. It also answered the questions that she had never asked.

* * *

Fourth Year – Second letter

The day after she had answered Minervas challenge Hermione noticed that the tapestry had gone. It was only a week later that she sent her next letter, the shortest time that she had ever left between them but there were things that she needed to say.

_Let me confess that we two must be twain,  
Although our undivided loves are one:  
So shall those blots that do with me remain  
Without thy help by me be borne alone.  
In our two loves there is but one respect,  
Though in our lives a separable spite,  
Which though it alter not love's sole effect,  
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.  
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,  
Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,  
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,  
Unless thou take that honour from thy name:  
But do not so; I love thee in such sort  
As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report._

Hopefully Minerva would interpret it in the way she meant it.

* * *

Fourth Year – The Yule Ball

Professor McGonagall looked up as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and their dates walked down the stairs to where she was standing at the entrance to The Great Hall. 'My father used to wear robes just like that,' Minerva thought when she saw what the youngest Weasley was wearing but of course being prim and proper she would never have said it.

Instead...

"Here you are Potter. Are you and Miss Patil ready?"

"Ready professor?" Harry asked.

"To dance. It's traditional that the three champions or in this case four are the first to dance. Surely I told you that?"

"No."

"Oh well now you know. Oh, as for you Mr Weasley you may proceed into The Great Hall with Miss Patil." Harry looked at her strangely, she didn't sound repentant at all.

They all looked up as Hermione Granger walked into the stairwell.

"She looks beautiful." Parvati said.

"Yeah she does." Harry answered.

Minerva stood for a moment looking up at the young woman, she was breathtaking tonight. Looking little like the studious girl she had known for four years, she was growing into a beautiful woman. Smiling down at them Hermione almost glided down the stairs and into the arms of Viktor Krum, who took her arm and led her past them into The Great Hall.

Padma nudges Ron, "Is that Hermione Granger? With Viktor Krum?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"Guess you were wrong about her then Ron."

"Guess so."

Hermione heard this and much of the gossip about her that night. She would have to tell Ginny that her plan had worked.

* * *

Fourth Year – Third letter

The first time it happened Hermione sat bolt upright in bed. She been asleep dreaming about Minerva but the dream had changed. They had been walking holding hands along a beach, talking. Hermione turned to her and placed a hand on the older womans cheek, leaning in for a kiss.

In all of her previous dreams the kiss had been soft and tender, this embrace started the same way but developed into something else. Minervas tongue flicked across her lips begging entry, which Hermione granted more than willingly. Hands tangled in hair, caressing, holding.

When Hermione had woken up they had been lying on a sand dune and her hands had been under Minervas shirt beginning to pull the material up the older womans stomach.

Gazing up into the darkness of her dorm room Hermione tried to slow her breathing, tried to ignore the ache in her body – the symptoms of her desire. "Merlin." She muttered to herself before getting out of bed to have a bath, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping any more this night.

_Is it thy will, thy image should keep open  
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?  
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,  
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?  
…  
O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:  
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:  
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,  
To play the watchman ever for thy sake:  
For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,  
From me far off, with others all too near. _

Hermione had just finished writing her next letter to Minerva when she heard quiet footsteps coming down the girls' staircase into the common room. Looking up she saw Ginny coming into the room, "Hey."

"Morning 'Mione, are you ok?"

"Yes, I just…"

"Yeah?"

"I had a dream about… her last night."

"So?"

"It was a different kind of dream."

"Huh? Oh like an erotic dream?"

"Ssssh."

"Why's that so different? Surely you must have thought about…? Sex?" This last part was said in a whisper.

"It's not like that."

"You love her. So eventually you would want to…?"

"Yeah but that's not the important bit, it's purer than that."

"Maybe it's your hormones."

"Maybe." Hermione sounded far from convinced and resolved not to think about her love in that manner again.

It didn't help. The dreams became more intense as time passed, it was making being around Minerva far harder. At the same time it served to deepen the love Hermione felt for her professor, made it more complete, made it real.

* * *

Fourth Year – Fourth letter

_Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;  
And yet methinks I have Astronomy,  
But not to tell of good or evil luck,  
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;  
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,  
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,  
Or say with princes if it shall go well  
By oft predict that I in heaven find:  
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,  
And, constant stars, in them I read such art  
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,  
If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert;  
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:  
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date_.

Following the pattern of the last years Minerva opened the final letter of the year. The recent events at Hogwarts playing on her mind. The verse was not a sad one which suggested that it was penned before Mr Diggory was killed. There was another shorter quote on the back though, that was a little more appropriate.

_But wherefore do not you a mightier way  
Make war upon this bloody tyrant,  
And fortify your self  
With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?_

Minerva again had trouble controlling the tremor of her hands, not merely because of her poet but in the knowledge of what she would have to face these next few weeks, now that You Know Who had returned.


	5. Fifth Year

Hi all,

Thank you all for the reviews, I apologise for the delay but once you read this you'll understand why it took longer to write than the rest put together, that and it has been a very busy few months. I will also be updating my other stories shortly, so please bear with me.

Poll please ladies and gents – I have two plot lines in my head, review and tell me which you prefer, which is no guarantee I'll do that one but nice to know.

Minerva finds out / is told while Hermione is at school yr 6/7 – not sure if it will be HBP / DH compliant.

Hermione sticks with the original plan. (I am still leaning towards this option but can see the advantage of both options so please R&R).

Fifth Year – Mid July, Hermiones house

It was mid afternoon and Hermione was rather busy, grumbling at the doorbell that had interrupted her. Placing her book on the table in the kitchen she turned down the gas under the dinner and walked down the hallway.

Getting to the front door she pulled it open and her jaw dropped, on her doorstep was Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore ; 'oh my god'.

"You may want to consider, being more cautious when opening your door Miss Granger."

"Yes Professor." Hermione said meekly.

"May we come in please Hermione?" Dumbledore asked genially, enjoying the interplay between the two women.

"Please, of course." She led her teachers down the hall with a giddy feeling of unreality. "I hope you don't mind sitting in the kitchen, we are decorating the lounge."

"Thank you Hermione."

The younger woman showed them into the kitchen, where they both began to look around a little curiously. The young witch smiled a little, it had obviously been some time since either of them had been in a muggle house.

"Are your parents here Miss Granger?" Minervas voice was a little clipped, she obviously had news that was not going to be easy to broach.

"No professor, they are still at work but will be back about half five."

"Do you mind if we wait?"

Hermione fought the urge to curl her lip into a smile, did she mind having Minerva McGonagall in her house, what a silly question. Although of course the older woman would not appreciate the irony, not being in on the joke and all.

"Minerva."

"Yes Professor Dumbledore?" Neither her colleague nor her pupil missed the emphasis she put on his title. Hermione again fighting her urges; turned her gaze to the table, not wanting her expression to give her away. It was at this point she began to panic.

'Oh no'

She noticed the title of the book she had been reading, it was writ in large letters embossed in gold leaf. If Minerva spotted that she would be busted for sure and knowing her professor, it was only a matter of time until she did.

"You have knowledge of Muggle devices, do you not? Why don't you put on a cup of tea while I tell Hermione some of what has been happening this summer."

As her Transfiguration Professor turned away to face the faucet, Hermione reached out to try and subtly grab her book from the table.

Halfway across the table her hand stilled. Her headmaster had picked up the book she sought and was running a thumb across the title. Panicked she looked up into those twinkling eyes and not for the first time she thought that perhaps Dumbledore was at least a little psychic. He certainly knew about the letters and had now he had the proof in his hands of who was doing it.

Hermione tore her eyes from her headmasters and at the gold lettering _An Advanced Guide to Concealment Charms _before shooting panicked glances at McGonagallAs the Headmaster opened the book he could not help but notice the highlighted chapter titles that included '_Concealing Magickal signatures' _and '_Pro-active charms to fight anti-concealment incantations'._

He couldn't help but smile at his industrious young student; she was taking the same time and care over this as she did on any of her schoolwork.

There was a great deal of panic in her face, not the childish panic of a kid about to be caught out but a more adult version of the emotion. Age non withstanding she had always been one of the most advanced students at the school, these last few years with Harry she had grown mature far beyond her own age, helping him and being a rock for her friends to lean on. In fact she reminded him of Minerva when she had been young. Dumbledore smiled at her warmly and silently slid the book to her across the table, never taking her eyes from his she shoved it into the back of her trousers under her shirt.

Minerva came back to the table bearing a tray of teacups and had even managed to find a packet of biscuits from somewhere.

"I'm afraid Hermione that I cannot discuss details with you but I will tell you some basics about what we have been doing.

When Voldemort was in power the first time I helped to form an organisation called The Order of The Phoenix. We did all we could to help stop him and to aid the Ministry. We had all been on standby since yourself and Harry rescued Sirius Black and announced that Peter Pettigrew had gone to rejoin his former master. The night that Cedric Diggory died I recalled the order and we located a premises that we could use as headquarters."

"I assume that he is laying low? I have been reading the Daily Prophet and there has been no mention of his return."

"The Prophet is no longer reporting the truth about these matters." Minervas voice was crisp and businesslike.

"They have been saying some very uncomplimentary things about Harry though." Hermione sounded almost as businesslike as her mentor, prompting another smile from her headmaster.

"Speaking of Mr Potter…" Professor McGonagall stopped and looked at Dumbledore obviously wanting him to speak.

"It is imperative that you tell Harry nothing that we tell you now or anything that you may overhear inadvertently or otherwise."

"I'm sure that we can trust your discretion on this matter, it is for his own safety." Hermione desperately repressed her urge to smile, she loved when Minerva got all severe on her.

"Why would I be in a position to overhear anything that could jeopardise Harry's safety?"

"Well that is what we are here to discuss with your parents."

At this point Hermione allowed herself a small smile in response to her favourite teachers strictness, she could probably guess what was coming next.

"Give me a hint at least."

"I hardly feel that it is appropriate for you to be told before your parents Miss Granger."

"But Professor surely I need to be told in any event?"

"Remind me never to argue with you Hermione." Dumbledore said. "There are certain people who are more at risk from Voldemort than others right now. Because of your relationship with Harry you are one of them, Ron is another."

"Mr Weasley is at risk because in addition to his connection to Mr Potter, his father and two older brothers are in The Order. The entire Weasley family are being moved to our 'safe house' later today."

Hermione lowered her tea cup slightly and surveyed the woman she loved over the rim of it. "I presume that you want me to move to this safe house too?"

"Yes Miss Granger that is precisely it."

"What about Harry?"

"For the time being he will be staying where he is." Dumbledore was being cryptic.

"Explain it to me."

"I hardly think that concerns you Miss Granger and even if it did it has no bearing on your situation." Minerva put her strictest voice on when she had said this, it was a tone that she had never had to use with her star pupil before.

"I'm sorry professor but I disagree."

"You do?" The tone of her voice had gotten frosty, it was calculated to make the recipient quake. Dumbledore just sat and watched the interplay between the two women.

Although her shoulders had lowered a little she was still facing McGonagall, still indignant, a match for the older womans ire.

"Yes."

"And why is that Miss Granger?"

"Because Harry is my friend and someone needs to look out for him."

"Hermione…" Dumbledore interjected, only to be cut off.

"Sir I have no intention of going anywhere until you tell me what's going to happen to him and why I can't tell him."

"I'm sure that your parents will not want you putting yourself in danger." McGonagall looked at her sternly.

"My parents trust my judgement and they will support me if I ask them to."

"Are you sure of that? Such altruistic notions often pale in the face of clear and present danger."

"I am absolutely sure Professor."

"And you are sure that we cannot persuade you otherwise?" At Hermiones nod she sighed, "Albus perhaps we should…"

At this point Dumbledore sighed and proceeded to tell her a truncated version of the story he would later tell Harry. He told her how Harry would be better protected by blood while he was there and that he was being guarded, by whom she was not told but she was assured that he was safe.

"Will that suffice Miss Granger?" McGonagall said wearily.

"Yes Professor…for now." This was said with a slightly cheeky smile, both of her teachers noted that it was a little out of character for the Hermione that they knew but she was getting older and this was her home afterall. "I guess I should go pack."

"Thank you Hermione." Shooting them another smile she sidled out of the room, taking care to keep the bulge in the back of her trousers hidden from view. She rushed up the stairs to hide some books at the bottom of her trunk before there was any risk of Minerva seeing them.

The two teachers sat in the kitchen listening to the bangs and crashes from the room above them. "Are we sure that was the right thing to do Albus?"

Her friend smiled at her strangely, "I have the utmost faith in Miss Grangers discretion. Besides we will need someone to keep an eye on him for us this year and who better than her?"

Late August

Hermione looked up at her mentor aghast. "I can't believe this."

Professor McGonagall had the grace to look a little guilty, she sat down on one of the chairs heavily. Despite Molly Weasleys obsessive cleaning spree a cloud of dust rose up from the padded chintz.

"Listen to me Hermione. This year you will be seeing a lot of worrying changes, there are a lot of things that I cannot tell you yet but suffice to say that Voldemort is gathering his followers and Harry will be in great danger. I need you to keep your eyes open for dangers to Harry, be them external or of his own making."

"So where does Snape come in?"

"You will find out in due course." An owl flew through the open window and to the professors suddenly extended arm, as though she had been on tender hooks waiting for it. She broke the seal with hands there were not quite as steady as usual. Hermione watched as the emotions played across her beloved professors' face, watched shock and fear turn to resigned determination before the older woman closed them off and became her usual impassive self.

"I have to go Miss Granger, will you do what I ask?"

Hermione sighed she hated this, "Yes." Her answer was simple, not trusting herself to say more. This was a test of her newly divided loyalties and it was tearing her apart.

"For what it is worth Miss Granger I apologise for putting you in this position but there is no alternative."

"Thank you." Her professor nodded before turning and walking away. "Oh and Professor…" Minerva turned to face her, "Be careful!" This time she was rewarded with a radiant smile as the professor again turned and left the room but this time her step was with a renewed confidence. Leaving a smiling but slightly bemused Hermione in her wake. "thought she was beautiful before…" Shaking her head ruefully she ran back up the stairs.

The first letter

It was the first day of term when Minerva found the first letter on her desk. Smiling she slumped into her chair, picking it up she caressed the parchment before opening it. Savouring every word she read it out loud to herself, it made up for a day of that Umbridge woman.

_As an unperfect actor on the stage,  
Who with his fear is put beside his part,  
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,  
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;  
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say  
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,  
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,  
O'ercharg'd with burthen of mine own love's might.  
O! let my looks be then the eloquence  
And dumb presages of my speaking breast,  
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,  
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.  
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:  
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit._

Her eyes misted over, how was it that her secret poet could share her deepest thoughts. How could they reveal their insecurities so easily? "More to the point, do I love you?" Shaking her head at herself Minerva settled down to read it again. "Don't be a fool Minerva!"

And then the thought hit her, a moment of epiphany, no man would so easily reveal as much of themselves as her poet had.

So it had to be a woman, another woman who had been writing all of those wonderful things to her. And she was surprised by how little that mattered to her, which in itself was a revelation. Never before had she thought about a woman in that way, but somehow it seemed inconsequential.

Two months later

"I'm going to kill her."

Hermione watched her friend pacing the dorm room, for once her hair matched something – her temper.

"Who?"

"Umbridge, have you seen what she's been doing to Harry?"

A sigh rose from Hermione who was all too aware of how the toad-like woman was torturing her friend, "Yeah. I have tried to get him to tell someone in authority."

"Like Professor McGonagall?" Ginny said slyly, despite the severity of the situation she couldn't resist teasing her too serious friend.

"If we tell her she will go off on one. There is a lot of antagonism between them and it's only a matter of time until it comes to a head. We need her here and how long until the ministry gives Umbridge more power."

"D'you think it will come to that?"

"There's a worrying trend developing here, we will have to wait and see how it develops. Plus I hate incompetent teachers and not being able to learn because of someone's stupidity."

"In all the time I have known you that if the first time I have heard you badmouth a teacher."

"She is not a teacher."

Late one night before Christmas.

Things had been going from bad to worse at Hogwarts. Nowhere was safe from the prying eyes of The High Inquisitor. The teachers' classrooms and offices had been searched for contraband, all except one. The occupant of that office was standing in front of its door.

"You have no right to do this." The anger in Minervas voice lowered the timbre of her words. The other teachers cringed as a whole, they had known Minerva McGonagall for many years and had only once before seen her that angry. It did not bode well, many a seasoned witch or wizard had quailed before Minerva in a rage but Umbridge merely simpered and continued in her actions, ignoring her nervous escort.

"Oh but my dear Minerva, the minister has given me the right. The Minister feels we should all be on the same page…unless of course you have something to hide?"

Minerva McGonagall straightened up to her full height, eyes burning into the toady faced woman in front of her. "What if I refuse…?"

"Then we will have to assume that you have not been honest with us, really Minerva be a team player. If not I'm sure that while you await trial in Azkaban, another ministry official skilled in Transfiguration will be more than happy to…"

"Fine." Minerva spat as she stepped aside allowing them access to her office. 'Damn you Albus' hating the instructions she had been given. She looked up at the other teachers noting the same thought in their own eyes, before following Umbridge and her pet auror into her office.

Stepping into the office she was shocked. In the few hours since she last left it some things had changed, there were books that had been on the shelves and were now missing. In their place were the childish books now being recommended by the Ministry of Magic, many of her personal belongings were also absent making the normally austere room look positively Spartan.

"Well Minerva this is a surprise. I hadn't thought you were taking the new Ministry decrees seriously but now I see that I have been mistaken about you. I suppose you felt that you couldn't publicly support me for fear of the other staff, isn't that right dear. Soon we will be able to change Hogwarts for the better, isn't it much more pleasant when we work together?"

The pink clad woman and her pet auror bustled out of the room muttering about what they would find at their next destination. They left behind them a number of stunned staff and a speechless Minerva McGonagall.

"Minerva, anyone would have thought you had prior warning of this," Pomona Sprout said only half joking, "There are still marks on the shelves where things have been removed."

Thinking furiously Minerva realized that there was only one person (apart from Albus) who could have entered her private domain and move things with impunity. Her secret admirer must have seen what was happening around the rest of the school and hastened to the office to help her save face. "It doesn't take Trelawny to tell me which way the wind is blowing, now if you'll excuse me I have things to do."

The other staff left bemoaning how they were going to struggle to do their jobs since Umbridge had confiscated many of their teaching material. This left Minerva to sadly gaze around her office. Many of her books had been in the same places on the shelves since she had began teaching here all those years ago, it was sad not to see them in their accustomed places but better that her admirer move them to a place of safety rather than Umbridge burn them.

Her eyes sadly cast around the room before noting a sheet of parchment sticking out from under the leg of a desk, as though forgotten. Picking it up she knew her hands were shaking again, how could this dear sweet woman have this effect on her? Minerva McGonagall had always prided herself on being rational but she had to admit that her reaction to her letters was anything but.

_Weary with toil…_

_The dear repose for limbs with travel tired._

That was the entirety of the note but Minerva let out a vocalization of relief and joy as she recalled the line that was missing, she left the room at a fast walk. The last thing she wanted was to attract Umbridges attention by running as she headed for her private rooms.

_I haste me to my bed_

Whispering the password to the door of her private rooms she rushed in, past the sitting room and into her bedchamber. Although she noticed her belongings carefully packed into boxes her eyes went to the smooth sheets on which lay another letter. Another poem. Although she was insanely curious to know what was written in it she sat on the bed, savoring the thought that her admirer had been in her bedroom – had perhaps sat on this bed.

"Oh knock it off Minerva!" She told herself angrily, it wouldn't do to let herself get carried away by her fantasies.

Ripping open the envelope she paused before taking out the parchment.

_Please accept my apologies for any disarray, I had to move quickly. I hope that my actions meet with your approval?_

_And while I am on the subject of approval…_

Minerva smiled to herself.

_Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd_

_Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;_

_My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,_

_And perspective it is the painter's art._

_For through the painter must you see his skill_

_To find where your true image pictur'd lies,_

_Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,_

_That hath windows glazed with thine eyes._

_Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:_

_Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for thee_

_Are windows to my breast, where through the sun_

_Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;_

_Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art;_

_They draw but what they see, know not the heart._

It was many minutes of reading and re-reading before she was able to gauge her poets' motives, it was another reaffirmation of her love, another plea for Minerva to consider her own feelings. Like a giddy schoolgirl she curled up in her bed hugging the parchment to her chest and for that night she forgot Umbridge.

Some weeks later

Minerva sat alone in her office, still overwhelmed by its barrenness and by the kindness shown by her poet. Still she was unable to work out the identity of her admirer but still hadn't tried to. It had been a great many years since she had felt like this, so many years of being shut up in a remote castle like a princess from one of those Muggle 'pixie-tales'. It was nice to have something to look forward to – other than Miss Grangers potential OWL score that was!

In some ways she didn't want to know. What if it was someone unsuitable? On the same count however, was she supposed to guess? What if she did nothing and this wonderful woman slipped away from her because she was too scared? Surely they would be right for each other – if they both cared this much than how could it be wrong?

"Ah Minerva dear, have you seen my latest decree?" Umbridge walked into her office without knocking, ignoring the glare aimed at her.

"I'm sure that I will see the notices at some point."

"That is hardly the point. Come now Minerva surely you understand that people need to know that we are on the same page?"

"We?" Although her question was tendered almost sweetly, the tone of her voice was anything but sweet.

"Moving on… My new decree prohibits professors from discussing subjects with their pupils that they are not paid to teach."

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't worry Minerva, this is being put in place to protect you and all of the other teachers."

Minerva put her quill down atop the stack of marking on her desk and straightened up. "Would you care to explain how that is for my protection?"

"Surely you can see Minerva, it wouldn't be done for a student having problems with their Transfiguration to ask….. Madam Hooch for help, would it?"

"Surprisingly Delores, Madam Hooch would be a good choice for help with Transfiguration, at one point she was my star pupil – many students do go to her for help. The staff here have always been approachable for help with any problems and while I hope that all of my students would come to me for specific help in this subject – if they feel happier going to their Head of House or to another teacher that they trust, then that is fine by me as long as they get the help that they need."

"Minerva dear we are trying to improve the standard of teaching here at Hogwarts and part of that is aiming for consistency. Must go my dear, I have a meeting with the Minister."

Bustling importantly out of the room, suddenly she turned to face the older woman. "By the way Minerva, this decree would also include poetry discussions." With that she was gone, leaving a stunned Minerva in her wake.

'How did she know?'

It was much later on that sleepless night that Minerva sat up in bed, the full implications of the High Inquisitors words suddenly clear. If Umbridge was right then her admirer was a student!

It was a few days later that Minerva got the next message from her admirer. This time it was very short, very hurried, with even more attempts to conceal its authorship.

_But wherefore do not you a mightier way_

_Make war upon this bloody tyrant?_

_And fortify your self_

_With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?_

The following weeks were very hectic for Hermione, the DA meetings were taking up far more time as the participants got more confident and wanted to try new things. Schoolwork in preparation for the OWLs had suddenly skyrocketed, Umbridge was around every corner trying to catch wrongdoers.

Worse yet Professor McGonagall was watching every class warily, eyes boring into every student in a silent interrogation. This was a problem, there was no way that her enchantments could stop Minerva from determining her identity, up until now she had relied on her teachers obvious unwillingness to end the letters, to keep her secret.

Someone had told Minerva, or something had happened to make her think that her admirer was a student and her new demeanor in class was obviously evidence of the war within her – to trust her heart or her head. Hermione sighed but as quickly as defeat had set in she sat up a little straighter – she needed to sway the balance in her favor again that was all.

_Say that thou didst mistake me for some fault,_

_And I will comment upon that offence;_

_Speak of my lameness, and I will halt;_

_Against thy reasons having no defence._

_Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill._

_To set a form upon desired change,_

_And I'll myself disgrace, knowing thy will._

_I will acquaintance strangle and look strange,_

_Be absent from thy walks, and in my tongue_

_Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,_

_Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong,_

_And haply of our old acquaintance tell._

_For thee against myself I'll vow debate._

Leaving letters to Minerva was fast becoming more risky but considering how many school rules and ministry decrees she was currently breaking, she was probably safe. Sometimes it was a good thing to live in Harry Potters shadow.

Fred and George Weasley sat at the desk that they shared in Transfiguration, like most other people in class that day they were making little attempt to do their work and unless Umbridge was present the teachers did not particularly seem inclined to make them. The main topic of conversation was how Dumbledore had fought off the entire Auror Corps and the Minister of Magic and Umbridge before leaving Hogwarts.

The Weasley twins were planning their own rebellion against the old hag. As McGonagall left her desk heading in their direction they did not notice that most of the students had gotten a little quieter – their outrage tempered by their fear of the strict Transfiguration professor. The first they knew was when her shadow loomed over the parchment that they were both scrawling on – working out the fine points of their new firework range. Hastily trying to cover up the parchment George looked up into green eyes, the professor reached put a hand silently and the boys handed it over.

Returning to her desk, her voice rang out, "While I understand that the current situation is _far _more interesting than your current lessons – I suggest that you do not allow it to interfere with your ability to pass your exams at the end of the year. Make sure that you all write down the information on the board before the end of the lesson."

Every student bent their heads to their parchments, quills in hand. This gave her a few moments to study the paper she held in hers. The Weasley twins were far more intelligent than anyone gave them credit for, it they applied themselves more then they could do really well. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the caricature of Umbridge trying to charm some fireworks – and failing. The boys had made a list of charms and incantations that they had used, there were a few ones that they could use to better advantage.

Before she could stop herself she had her quill out and made a few additions, both to the list and to the caricature. With a wry smirk at herself for reverting into a teenager, she placed it on the desk waiting for class to end. She couldn't imagine the looks on their faces when she called them to her at the end of class – they would probably think that they had corrupted their professor, but someone else had managed to so that already. If she was being corrupted, then she wasn't entirely sure that she cared overmuch.

The Astronomy OWL

Hermione sat on the roof of the tower struggling with herself, she had finished her practical OWL far before of her fellow pupils – which while normal gave her far too much time to think.

It had been weeks since she had last written to Minerva; some of that delay had been intentional. The last sonnet she had sent was a clear message about how she felt and had indicated her willingness to back off if the older woman had wanted her to. She had waited for a reply but knew that in the present 'political' climate it would be near impossible. Although if Minerva were that adamant about making one, she would have found a way to do so.

Things at the school had gotten worse and worse, all over people were scared. Since Dumbledore's departure the entire school had suddenly become rebellious. The Weasley twins had avoided being expelled only by leaving. They had become a symbol for the 'Anti-Umbridge' movement at Hogwarts. Like a powder keg the school was primed and ready to explode – something was going to give, soon.

It was then that the students who should have been watching the sky noticed Umbridge and her 'moron' brigade approaching Hagrids hut under the cover of darkness. Despite the invigilators best attempts the OWL was practically abandoned as the whole of the fifth year witnessed Minerva hut by a number of Stunning Spells. Watching in horror Hermione watched as the woman fell over backwards almost in slow-motion as Hagrid made his escape.

Hermione's anguished cry was muffled by the hand she placed over her mouth, fighting the urge to scream she rushed from the tower towards the hospital wing – someone had to tell Madam Pomfrey. Her departure went almost unnoticed in the general chaos that was now the Astronomy OWL. She only hoped that Minerva was alright.

A few days later

Judicious questioning of Madam Pomfrey had indicated the severity of Minervas condition, in her position as Teachers Pet Hermione could often extract far more information from people in authority than her classmates. There were times when that skill was a blessing, like now. She was going to be moved to St Mungos in London if her condition did not stabilize soon.

The last few days Hermione had been feverishly working as if in a dream. Studying for her remaining OWLS and spending the rest of the time in the library looking up information on Stunning Spells. Intellectually she knew that there was nothing she could do to help Minerva but she had to try. It was tearing her apart.

Slipping a note into the tartan bag next to Minervas bedside she slipped out of the hospital wing. It would not be for days later that Minerva was cognizant enough to read it and understand the context.

_Did my heart love til now? Forswear it, sight;_

_For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night._

Somehow Hermione knew that Minerva would have the same opinion as she did. This speech in Romeo and Juliet was by far one of the most romantic that Shakespeare had written. It is the first time that Romeo saw his one true love, before he found out that she was the daughter of his sworn enemy but when he first realized that she was and would always be the most beautiful thing in his world and made everything else pale in comparison.

She included another note at the bottom of the page, it wasn't needed but she didn't know what else to say. It also led to the heart of her own confusion, should she reveal herself as planned or before that as she so wanted to.

_By a name_

_I know not how to tell thee who I am:_

_But I do want to Minerva._

Decisions could wait for another time.

Hermione was still in the hospital wing following the raid on the Ministry when Minerva returned to Hogwarts. Waking from a nap she opened her eyes to look up into the emerald orbs of her love, "Professor…?"

The weakness in her voice was mostly down to her inability to know if this was a dream or not.

"Miss Granger."

"How are you feeling?" The two women said at the same moment, both sharing a wry chuckle when they realized what they had done.

"I understand you are responsible for …" The older woman inclined her head in the direction of the almost catatonic High Inquisitor.

"How could I have known the Centaurs would react like that?" Hermione said innocently, prompting Minerva to raise her eyebrows incredulously.

"Yes, yes, how could you have known?" Thus followed a warm smile, "I'll leave you to get some rest."

Passing the bed of her former rival but looking back at her star pupil Minerva made a clip-clop noise with her tongue. Grinning once more at Hermione she left the room leaving a traumatized Sybil Trelawny to wail behind her.

_Those lines I have writ before do lie;_

_Even those that said I could not love you dearer;_

_Yet then my judgment knew no reason why_

_My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer…_

_Love is a babe; then might I not say so,_

_To give full growth to that which still doth grow?_


	6. Sixth Year

Summer Holidays - The Burrow

It was getting harder and harder

It was getting harder and harder. Hermione wanted to reveal herself to Minerva, wanted to throw herself into the older womans arms. Ginny was not helping.

"Just go and tell her how you feel."

"I can't Ginny."

"Don't you want to?"

Hermione stood up and began to pace, her inner frustration becoming more and more evident with every circuit of the room.

"Yes!"

Ginny got up and grabbed the older girl, "Stop that 'Mione. You're making me dizzy." She led the older girl back to sit on her bed. Hermione flopped down looking up at the ceiling of Ginny's bedroom in The Burrow. At least they weren't stuck In Grimmauld Place this year, though poor Harry was still stuck with the Dursleys.

"You want to tell her now don't you?"

"I do."

"Then why not?"

"She's a professional Gin, she would have to reject me. I wouldn't love her if she was the type of woman to do that!"

"So you're a student in love with a professor, but you'd have no respect for a teacher who would date a student."

"Sounds stupid doesn't it?"

"Sounds like you though. So what's the plan?"

"Originally I was going to wait until after graduation but it's harder than I thought."

"What about the war?"

"There's nothing I can do about that, I'll lose her if I say something and I may loose her to the war anyway." Hermione growled, jumping back to her feet and starting to pace again. Ginny just sighed and left her to it.

* * *

September – Minervas Quarters

It had been a long first week back. Much of the summer Minerva had been on missions and bolstering the defences of Hogwarts. It had left her little time to do her normal preparation for the new school year. For the first time in her teaching career Minerva was playing catch up.

Late on the Friday night Minerva was sat at her desk watching the fog through the window. Nothing had been the same since the mass breakout of Azkaban and the defection of the dementors. "Albus I hope you are right." She murmured to herself before turning back to her work.

There was a knock on the door, "Enter." When there was no answer Minerva rose to open the door – force ten glare in place ready to chastise the shy first year that she was expecting to be there.

Instead she found a parcel, looking along the corridor she couldn't see anything. Taking it back inside she hugged it to her chest, it had been far too long since she had heard from her admirer.

There was a box under a folded sheet of parchment. Minerva could see this letter was different than the previous ones.

_The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd_

_And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;_

_The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth_

_And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;_

_Rich men look sad and ruffians dance and leap,_

_The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,_

_The other to enjoy by rage and war:_

_These signs forerun the death or fall of kings_

_Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west,_

_Witnessing storms to come, woe and unrest:_

_Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes._

_Minerva,_

_I do apologise for bringing the coming war into this. I know you must have had your fill of it already. Realistically though, the chances of either of us surviving the coming storm are fairly slim. _

_You know that I have my reasons for not being more forthcoming. I know that you have your reasons for allowing my subterfuge and I thank you for that. One day I promise you will know who I am but for now I cannot say._

_There will be times when I will not be able to write to you as I have done. The gift enclosed I have enchanted, no matter how far apart we are I will know when you read it and you will know my feelings. I'm sorry I cannot do more._

_In case we never have the chance to say it in person, I wanted you to know that I love you Minerva! I have loved you from the first moment I saw you and hope that I get a chance to tell you in person as I have been planning all these years._

_Love Always_

Minerva had tears in her eyes as she read the letter, knowing exactly what her admirer meant. Unwrapping her gift she looked at the small book. She hadn't seen one in years, they were rare and expensive, how had a student been able to find or afford one of these? Going through the list of rich female students in sixth and seventh year she couldn't think of one who would fit.

Opening the book she took a breath. A book of Erised has only two pages, on the left it showed you the mood or thoughts of the other person, in this case expressed in Shakespeare.

_This is the very ecstasy of love,  
Whose violent property fordoes itself  
And leads the will to desperate undertakings  
As oft as any passion under heaven  
That does afflict our natures._

The book would sense her reading the words but not what she was feeling, her admirer would know and another message with updated feelings would appear. As she looked gold flowing text appeared, rushing across the page to send her a message.

_My bounty is as boundless as the sea,  
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,  
The more I have, for both are infinite._

* * *

There were many occasions over that year when Minerva looked in the book, struggling not to read it too often, knowing that her admirer would know. That was different than reading the old letters as she did often. Minerva had too much pride to let an unknown person know how much they meant to her.

The messages on the left ranged from love to lust, sometimes the message was fear or anger. Emotions that were all too common at the moment around the castle and in the wider world. Once her admirer sensed that she was looking, the messages changed to love and reassurance.

It was a huge temptation, the insight into the heart and mind of someone who was such a mystery. There was little else that could bring joy into her heart that year. There were few letters that year, though she no longer needed them Minerva missed how she felt when she would spot hidden missives hidden in her things.

* * *

January

"God I miss her."

"It's not like you are not seeing her."

"I know Ginny but sending letters just made me feel close."

Ginny hugged Hermione, "Why did you decide to stop sending them?" Her answer was a sigh, the brunette looked sad and worried at the same time.

"Sooner or later Harry is going to have to face Voldemort. It may mean that we do not come back next year."

"What, Ron hasn't said anything!"

"I don't think they have thought about it yet. It makes sense though. Voldemort is not likely to walk into Hogwarts and we will not be able to wait to face him until after we finish school. So next year I think we will be somewhere else. I didn't want Minerva to guess who I am by the absence of letters. At least this way she will always have something."

Hermiones upset was plain on her face. This was tearing her apart; just when things were getting interesting she had to take a step back. One day the war would be over and she would be able to reveal herself, her true intentions to the woman she loved.

* * *

There was one other letter sent that year, the day of the funeral Minerva awoke to a letter on her pillow.

_How can I then return in happy plight _

_That am debarred the benefit of rest, _

_When day's oppression is not eased by night, _

_And each, though enemies to either's reign, _

_Do in consent shake hands to torture me, _

_The one by toil, the other to complain _

_How far I toil, still farther off from thee? _

_I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright _

_And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven; _

_So flatter I the swart-complexioned night, _

_When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild'st the even. _

_But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, _

_And night doth nightly make grief's strength seem stronger. _

_Dearest Minerva_

_His loss diminishes us all, perhaps you most of all. He has left a heavy legacy for you to bear, I cannot lighten the load you carry, nor would you allow it. Remember you are not alone, there is little I can offer you except understanding and my love._

_When you feel alone read the Erised book. _

_I love you _

_X_

* * *

I know it's short this time guys, but this book does not easily lend itself to the existing format. The next chapter will also be short but the one after that is the one you are waiting for.

Sorry for the delay, thanks for the reviews.

Tan X


	7. Seventh Year

Authors note: I personally disliked HBP and DH – I think she could have done so much better, but hey. I am trying to keep as close to cannon as possible despite this, which is why the last chapter was short. There will be some minor changes to DH but should be fairly true to the original.

When I write a story I usually have an image in my head – this chapter fulfils the one I had for Watching From Afar. This will be continued in an as yet untitled sequel, if you have a title suggestion please let me know.

* * *

Hermione lay huddled in her sleeping bag across the tent from Harry; they were both missing Ron – in terrible danger while everything was falling apart. Everything was a mess, they were searching for the means to defeating Voldemort and trying to evade his forces but she and Harry were barely talking. More than that she missed Minerva more than she had ever thought possible, every night she dreamed about her. Since they left Grimmauld Place the sweet dreams had turned into nightmares of Minerva being in danger.

Harry's voice broke into her thoughts.

"She'll be ok you know."

"Wha…?"

"Professor McGonagall! She's very capable you know, she will be fine."

"How did you know?"

"You cry her name at night you know. When this all started you were moaning it but now you are screaming."

Hermione sighed and turned away from him, she cried herself to sleep as was becoming a habit for her. She breathed a good night to Minerva, knowing that her sentiment would be 'read' if not heard.

* * *

The day after the final battle

Many of the Hogwarts students had returned home to their families for a few days, wanting to spend time with the people they loved and to celebrate their victory. Ron had gone home with his family to grieve for his brother. Harry and Hermione were helping to clean up and repair the school along with quite a number of willing volunteers.

It was late that night that Minerva gave up and returned to her chambers. It was only when she was alone that she could let her tears fall. So many friends and students lost, so much waste. Death and destruction had been brought to the only place she had felt safe. So much had happened in this last year and she was reaching breaking point.

Even her personal rooms were damaged. Smoke and flames from other parts of the building had damaged all of her property. Stuff was strewn around the rooms from the force of some of the explosions that had struck the building. Sighing she knelt down and began to sort through the charred remains of papers and books, noting almost instantly the total destruction of her copy of the book of erisead. After about an hour of this she found a sheaf of papers that had survived suspiciously unscathed, snatching them up she unfolded the first sheet. It was the first letter she had received from her secret admirer seven years earlier. They were all here, all in perfect condition; obviously having been charmed by someone very capable.

Magically Minerva remade her bed and went to sleep clutching the letters to her chest.

* * *

A few months later

Hogwarts was repaired and partially rebuilt. Outside was a monument to those who died during the conflict, the list of names was extensive – as were the flowers and gifts piled at the base of it. The building would always bear the marks of the battle, they could have been erased but Professor McGonagall thought that there should be reminders.

Muggle born students and those that had missed school were offered the chance to take their NEWTS that year and could graduate if they passed or repeat the following year. The exams were marked before the end of term, unsurprisingly Hermione received the top grades in the school and in recent memory. Harry did rather well and Ron scraped through – none of them had made finite plans for the following year past having a much needed holiday.

Today was the day Hermione would leave Hogwarts, she was taking a tour around the familiar corridors and stairwells. Her nostalgia was mixed with pain, the last seven years had taken a toll on her and her friends. She had reached the astronomy tower and was looking out over the grounds.

"Trying to remember or trying to forget Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned around, smiling up at Minerva she sighed and leant on the balustrade. "How did you know?"

Minerva moved round to her side and took up an identical posture but she was obviously tense, her hands gripping the rails tightly.

"I saw the look on your face. So?"

"Bit of both really. Most of my time here has been wonderful. I look at those places and see the fun I had or the good things that happened. But I also spent a great deal of time terrified beyond belief; I've been chased by trolls, giants, werewolves, death eaters. I've seen Harry risk his life more times than I care to count, seen Ron dragged off and hurt. People have died, I saw you get hurt from up on this tower… And that's without the Quidditch!"

"Now now, you surely can't lump Quidditch in with your adventures."

The two women smiled at each other, "Ok perhaps not. At least I got to punch Malfoy."

"You did what?!"

"I punched Malfoy in the face."

Minerva laughed, "I'm sure you had a good reason. I suppose I should punish you for that?"

Hermione stood up and faced her professor. "I guess you should but I have to get ready."

"Yes of course. As highest scoring student you have a speech to make."

"No problem." Hermione smiled confidently, "I've been planning it for some time."

"Then I won't keep you, see you later Miss Granger."

* * *

It was just before the ceremony that Minerva found the note in her robe pocket, just like old times. Secreting herself in a window box she hastened to open the note.

_Against that time, if ever that time come,  
When I shall see thee frown on my defects,  
When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,  
Called to that audit by advis'd respects;  
Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,  
And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,  
When love, converted from the thing it was,  
Shall reasons find of settled gravity;  
Against that time do I ensconce me here,  
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,  
And this my hand, against my self uprear,  
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:  
To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,  
Since why to love I can allege no cause_

Minerva began to tremble, her hands shaking the parchment in her hand. She wanted to flee to her office away from the crowds of students and parents. Was she shaking in excitement or fear, she didn't even know anymore. The moment she had been waiting for was going to happen soon, she was going to learn the identity of her secret admirer. She started looking around, assessing the people passing. Would she be given another letter or would her admirer came and talk to her directly? Lowering her eyes back to the parchment Minerva read deeper the emotions of the writer, her admirer was intending to reveal herself but was convinced that she would be rejected.

A subtle bell rang signalling the start of the graduation ceremony; hastily Minerva stuffed the note back into her pocket and rushed to take her place on the stage.

Speeches were given and students were presented with certificates, for the first time this ceremony was held during term so the hall was packed with students, staff and guests. The teachers gave the stage to the students, some of whom like Hermione had speeches to make. Minerva was sat facing the stage, barely listening as Harry made a speech and several others made theirs – she was thinking about her letter.

Poppy nudged her, "Hermione will be next."

Straightening up Minerva gave her full attention to her protégé. Wearing her red and gold graduation gown Hermione looked stunning.

"I always knew that I would be here giving this speech on graduation. Though it's not exactly the way I planned, I am still here – we are all here, we prevailed over evil. My years at Hogwarts have meant a great deal to me, I met some great friends especially Harry and Ron you both know what you mean to me. Being here has changed the person that I am and everything that I will become.

Traditionally I should give a reading about moving on and the infinite chances now available to us. However I feel that there is only one topic to logically base it on. Our world has now changed forever and it is only right to reflect upon what has happened.

_When to the sessions of sweet silent thought_

Recognising the prose Minerva sat up straighter staring at Hermione who was keeping her gaze focussed on the parchment she held in shaking hands.

_I summon up remembrance of things past,_

_I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,_

_And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste._

_Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,_

_For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,_

_And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,_

_And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight._

_Then can I greive at grievances forgone,_

_And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er_

_The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,_

_Which I new pay as if not paid before._

Finally she raised her head, locking her gaze with Minerva's.

_But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,_

_All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end._

There were claps and tears from the audience and her classmates but Hermione kept her eyes on one face. A face that displayed shock more readily than any other emotion. Harry and Ron picked up Hermione and carried her off of the podium in a hug and that was the last time Minerva saw Hermione at Hogwarts.

"Thanks guys." That was something she had planned in advance, finally revealing herself to Minerva – seeing the shock in her eyes, Hermione knew that she would have just stood on the stage staring at the woman she loved like an idiot. She also made sure that she left the castle before Minerva could come looking for her; she KNEW that her mentors' initial reaction would be that of rejection. Better she had time to think about it and really consider what her reaction would be.

* * *

Later that day

Minerva walked into her study, a room that had housed all of her predecessors. Almost immediately she spotted the envelope on her desk.

"Albus!" She practically screamed.

"Yes m'dear." Replied the portrait of her late great friend.

"How did Miss Granger get in here?"

"Aaah she finally revealed herself?"

"She stood up in front of everyone and declared herself!"

"I very much doubt that Minerva. What actually happened?"

Minerva told him what had transpired in the great hall.

"So it wasn't a love poem per se?"

"Not as such."

"Did she declare that it was for you?"

"No."

"So in fact she was being as discrete as she has been for the last seven years?"

There was a pause from the Scottish Headmistress, "She has been rather, hasn't she?"

"She's conducted this with a great deal of thought and care. Not merely for her own sake but for yours."

"When did you find out?"

"I suspected from the start, I saw how she looked at you when no one else was there. Also, do you remember when we went to her home?" When she nodded he told her what had transpired in her kitchen all those years ago.

"How did she get in today?"

"I gave her the password some months ago."

"Albus…" She sighed, "What am I supposed to do now?"

"That's quite simple."

"Is it really?"

"I assume Miss Granger made herself scarce."

"She didn't even wait for the train, she walked outside and apparated."

"Our Hermione is a very smart young woman, she knows you very well."

"I don't like people knowing me." Knowing she looked childish pouting, Minerva poured herself a firewhisky.

"That's a downside to loving and being loved my dear."

"So why do you think that she left?"

Dumbledore smiled, "She knows that your knee jerk reaction would be rejection – plain and simple."

"She's right."

"But, I believe that she left to make sure you had time to think."

"What can I say to her Albus?"

"What do you want to say?"

"Well I can't possibly…"

He cut her off, "She is no longer your student – very astute of her. Minerva take a few days, read the letter on your desk, read the old letters. Truly think about what you feel."

"Then what?"

"Then I suggest you drop by her house and pay her a visit."

Minerva said nothing in response to this latest tit-bit of advice. Instead she finished her glass, staked over to the desk and tore open the envelope to reveal a very familiar piece of prose – it was the sonnet that Hermione had read aloud a few hours previously. She murmured "Hermione."

At the sound of her voice the letter lit up for a moment as part of a further sonnet appeared.

_Say thou didst forsake me for some fault, _

_And I will comment upon that offence;_

_Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt;_

_Against thy reasons making no defence._

_Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill._

_To set a form upon desired change,_

_As I'll myself disgrace, knowing thy will._

* * *

It was a few days later that there was a knock at Hermione's door.

She sat up straight on the sofa, putting her book down. It was after ten at night and with a storm raging outside the windows she knew that this was no ordinary visit from a concerned neighbour or similar.

She walked to the door. Standing by it for a moment she took a deep breath and opened it. Standing under the porch was the woman she loved.

"Good evening Miss Granger."

"Hi."

They looked at each other for a moment, Minerva was wearing muggle clothing which was a bit of a surprise – she looked good in it too, far more natural than most pure-blood wizards.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Hermione smirked at the sarcastic tone of her former professor.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners? Please come in."

She allowed Minerva to precede her into the hallway and closed the door behind her, "The first door on your left is the living room." Following instructions the older woman stepped into what looked more like a library than a living room – there were books practically everywhere. The coffee table and couch were bare though, there was an open book on the cushion and a half empty wine glass next to a bottle on the coffee table, an open fire burned in the grate.

Hermione leaned against the doorframe, allowing her former professor time to look around. "Can I get you a cup of tea or something?"

Minerva half-smiled at her, "Another glass perhaps?"

"Of course." She left and went into the kitchen.

Shrugging off her jacket Minerva hung it up on a peg behind the door. Crossing the room swiftly she picked up the bottle weighing it in her hand, trying to judge how much was missing, trying to judge the sobriety of her former pupil.

"I'm on my second glass."

Minerva closed her eyes for a moment before putting the bottle down and straightening up.

"Am I that transparent Miss Granger?"

"Not really." She sat down on one end of the sofa and gestured to the other. "Tell me, was that just habit or something else?"

Minerva sat down where the cushions were still warm from Hermiones body heat from earlier.

"Habit." Her voice was dry.

"Really?" Hermione could do a dry, sarcastic tone too.

"You really shouldn't try and read something into everything that I say…Hermione."

The younger woman reached forward and picked up her wineglass, she took a sip and said, "That wasn't so hard was it?"

Minerva copied her motion and leaned back into the sofa cushions, again closing her eyes for a moment trying to collect her thoughts.

"What do you want me to say?" There was a strange note in her voice.

Hermione reached out and for the briefest moment she clasped her loves hand before pulling it back, "I just want you to be yourself. You know how I feel Minerva."

"I just…"

"There's no rush. I've waited seven years."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Oh come on! You know full well why not!"

"You think I would have rejected you?"

"Yes. Besides even if hypothetically you did take me up on an offer like that, I wouldn't have respected you afterwards."

Minerva raised an eyebrow inviting her to continue. "You are a woman of integrity and morals – if you'd have done anything other reject me – you wouldn't have been the woman I fell in love with."

The older witch shook her head slightly, slowly, "You really are incredible."

"I'm not sure, is that a good or bad thing?"

"It's an observation." Her sarcastic tone returned.

Hermione chuckled.

"This is going nothing like I expected."

"And what did you expect?"

Hermione blushed and looked away.

Strong, nimble fingers touched her chin, lifting her head up forcing eye-contact. "And what did you expect Hermione?"

She raised her own hand taking hold of Minervas wrist gently but firmly.

"I'm not sure. Silly I know given that I have had so many years to think about it… part of me wanted you to walk through the door, throw yourself into my arms and say that you loved me too." The last part came out in a forced rush, she took a breath and continued, "Mostly I expected you to walk in and say that this wouldn't work, that you didn't feel the same."

Minerva removed her hand, placed the glass on the table and turned back to her former student hesitating for a moment before taking both hands in her own. "I'm not going to reject you out of hand Hermione but I won't lie to you either, I don't know how I feel, I don't know if this is right or wrong or if what I am feeling is real."

"What do you feel?"

There was a moment of silence before Minerva sighed, "Hermione."

"I'm not trying to push you, I just want to understand."

"I have had a five or six year infatuation with a person I didn't know. That person turned out to be you and I don't know how to feel about that."

Hermione finished her glass of wine and looked at Minerva, waiting patiently for her to continue. "Hermione… I'm not good at this."

"You're doing fine."

"I figured out a few years ago that 'my admirer' was a female student. I couldn't figure out who it was. Then you were standing there…"

Minerva shook her head obviously confused.

"Is there someone else you'd rather it was?"

There was a brief pause, "No."

Hermione smiled, "That's good to know."

"How can you be so calm?"

"Believe me I'm nervous too Minerva. I've done what I set out to do, I don't know where we will go from here – there's no plan anymore."

Dropping Hermiones hand Minerva poured them another glass of wine.

"Did you have a future plan?"

"No, not as such, I always assumed that we would figure it out together."

A slight frown creased Minerva's brow, "That's a strange attitude."

Hermione reached out and ran a finger down the side of Minerva's face, inwardly smiling madly as the older woman closed her eyes. "I tried very hard not to think about that. I didn't want to plan for a future that probably wouldn't happen."

There was a great deal of tenderness in the look that Minerva turned on the younger woman.

"What on Earth do you see in me? I'm so much older than you, I have crows feet and wrinkles."

"There's no easy answer to that. Loving you is as natural as breathing, I can't imagine not loving you or even remember a time when I didn't."

There were tears in Minervas eyes, "Hermione…"

"You have the most beautiful eyes, even when you have your guard up – they are still expressive as hell. I love your dry sense of humour, I love the way your lips twitch when you are being sarcastic. The way that you always think of others and your courage. Your sheer intelligence and the joy you take in your work. The excitement and exhilaration that makes your eyes sparkle when we argue about research…" Her voice trailed off.

Minerva just stared at her, more than a little shocked by the younger womans candour. A very scary thought occurred to her for the first time, _I could love this woman. _She leaned over and gently brushed her lips over Hermione's, the younger woman was shocked into immobility and Minerva pulled back.

"Minerva?"

Her answer was a smile as the older woman leant back in for another kiss, this time Hermione kissed her back. The kiss was short but sweet; they were both accustoming themselves to this new sensation and aspect of their relationship. When they broke the kiss Hermione rested her forehead against Minerva's, looking deeply into pools of vivid green. This lasted for a timeless moment until almost imperceptibly Minerva stiffened. Hermione pulled away and shared the remainder of the wine between the two glasses and handed one to Minerva with a smile.

"How do you do _that_?"

"Do what?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, being deliberately obtuse.

Minerva gave a slight nervous chuckle in response. She wasn't about to talk about her insecurities at this stage, having spent most of her life hiding them.

The phone rang interrupting them, "That'll be Harry, excuse me."

Minerva finished the wine placing the glass back on the table and leant back into the cushions looking up at the ceiling. She heard some of Hermione's conversation, as she comforted her best friend but was thinking about her own situation and Hermione. About ten minutes later she opened her eyes as the younger girl sat back down.

"How is he doing?"

"He's struggling and has been for a while now."

"You all went through a lot last year."

"Everyone did, I think he will be fine given time."

Minerva smiled, the teacher in her wanting more information but she knew Hermione was not going to break that confidence. Knowing that her immense compassion was surpassed by her loyalty and her courage.

Looking deeply into those expressive brown eyes she took a breath, "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes… I want to try this…us."

"Really?"

"Yes really."

Hermione practically threw herself into her mentors arms, feeling them wrap around her without reservation. Knowing that Minerva felt the same as she did – otherwise she would have never said anything; knowing that she had achieved her dream, after seven long years she would no longer be watching from afar.


End file.
